The Imperial I-class Star
Destroyer Warspite slowly cruised through the Brentaal system,
her repairs recently completed. A large conference room dominated one of
the upper levels of the command structure and standing in front of the
viewports was none other than Admiral Claudius Rodney. The middle-aged
commander stood staring out into the distance at the murky cloud that
comprised the outer bands of the Ringali Nebula. A seemingly
never-ending parade of TIE/ln starfighters maneuvered pass through the
viewport, the familiar noise of their twin ion engines clamoring through
the room. His arms were behind his back, and his hands were clasped
firmly in one another, as he patiently awaited the arrival of the ISB
Tactical Unit's commander. They needed a victory, and they needed one
soon, as the Inquisitor's latest report to the Grand Vizier had been
less than stellar. It was his hope that this man would be the one who
could deliver his victory where others had not.

The soft hiss of the durasteel doors
marked the arrival of the Admiral's guest. Colonel Verus Theus briskly
strode through the entrance to the conference room, his black boots
clanking in rhythmic step. The Colonel paused near the table as he
awaited the Admiral's attention, raising his arm to offer the superior
officer a salute. Much needed to be discussed concerning the status of
the hunt for the Rebellion's insurgents, and the Empire had not yet
answered the recent loss of the garrison with a strike of their own.
That, ideally, would change quite soon.

The Admiral did not initially turn to
greet his guest, his glaze focused off on that distant gas cloud that
had been such a painful thorn in his side for the better part of a year.
"Do you know what a nebula is, Colonel?" he asked slowly, in a cold
deliberate tone. "It is a cloud of gas and dust," he stated bluntly,
answering his rhetorical question as he slowly turned to make eye
contact with the Colonel. "Gas and dust..." he repeated, as he pulled
out his chair and gracefully situated himself in it, hopping forward as
he slid the chair back under the table. "Gas and dust..." he echoed, as
a glove fist slammed itself down upon the table, breaking the calmness
of the encounter. "Hundreds of ships. Tens of thousands of men. And we
are bested by gas and dust, Colonel," he concluded, shaking his head as
the words resentfully spilled from his lips.

The Colonel silently listened to the
Admiral's statement, holding his salute until the senior officer had
taken the seat at the table. Theus then moved forward to claim his own
chair, his posture remaining rigidly upright once he was seated. He
pondered his options for an appropriate response to the Admiral's
musings; the Colonel had never been one for analogies and rhetoric.
"Perhaps, sir, though our targets are merely flesh and blood. They may
continue to hide as they have done so," said the Colonel as he glanced
towards the viewport, "but I assure you they will fall as easily as
other men." The Colonel had no additional insights on the nebula
metaphor, as his ground training precluded his familiarity with space
tactics, though he was indeed well prepared to continue his hunt on the
surface of the planet.

The conference room door slid open and a
nondescript ISB Major in his middle years entered. He betrayed no signs
of galactic origin by movement or manner, and he wore an expressionless,
pallid face. "Gentlemen," he addressed the superior officers with barely
animated thin lips. "My apologies for my tardy arrival. I trust you've
seen my recommended course of action brief Colonel?"

The Colonel's eyes flickered towards the
door as his colleague entered, welcoming the arrival of a fellow Bureau
officer. Now was not the time for political bickering or ego posturing,
and the ISB Tactical Units had little tolerance for such affairs.
"Indeed I have. Admiral, this is Major Nolas Reik. He has suggested a
number of prudent options to address the insurgent threat on the
surface." Though the 317th had not long been deployed to the planet, the
Colonel felt the need to deliver results, soon. "We are strongly
considering establishing a puppet terror cell to shift the momentum away
from the insurgents, as well as providing our forces with an enemy we
can publicly kill or capture."

"The situation on the surface of the
world is embarrassing. If we were dealing with a group of native
organizers or union tradesmen the current course of action could likely
show results. But all Intelligence suggests the threat to be a decently
trained rebel cell of undetermined size. The socioeconomic conditions on
the planet lend themselves to a sympathetic pool of supporters for a
Rebel movement, as the Civil War has yet to play a meaningful role
there. I recommend a broad shift in tactics. Being that in any
counterinsurgency, the population's view is more important than any
combat power, we must isolate the rebels, and rob them of the ability to
tell their own story."

"We must describe for the natives
exactly what the Rebellion is made of and willing to do. The best course
of action to do that would be the establishment of a false flag red
cell, that executes judicious use of terror inspired tactics to shape
public onion against the blood hungry Rebel butchers. This, along with a
rigorous, and expensive isolation campaign, and the development of
native uniformed and non-uniformed militias, and an attempt to control
all illicit criminal activity on the planet, should shape native
opinion, and build support for the Empire. After the rebels have been
identified and isolated, it should be little trouble to round them up,
and execute them publicly."

The Admiral sat silently for a moment,
as he brought his right hand up over his mouth, stroking at his chin as
he considered the option that was being presented to him. It was not the
tactic that he would normally advocate, and his eyes slowly moved from
the Colonel to the Major as he considered his next course of his action.
"This must be an ISB operation from top to bottom..." he said slowly, as
his hand moved over the control panel on the table to deactivate the
recording device. He sighed in frustration as he spun the chair around,
turning his back on the two officers as his attention again focused on
the viewport. "Do try to manage the collateral damage, gentleman..." he
said, considering the implications of the words he was saying. "You have
my consent to proceed," he said, as he rose from his seat and walked
forward to the viewport, glaring angrily out at the nebula as he
considered what was happening. Perhaps the battle on the surface was
being dealt with, but that was only half of the Tottenge he was facing.

The Admiral sat silently for a moment,
as he brought his right hand up over his mouth, stroking at his chin as
he considered the option that was being presented to him. It was not the
tactic that he would normally advocate, and his eyes slowly moved from
the Colonel to the Major as he considered his next course of his action.
"This must be an ISB operation from top to bottom..." he said slowly, as
his hand moved over the control panel on the table to deactivate the
recording device. He sighed in frustration as he spun the chair around,
turning his back on the two officers as his attention again focused on
the viewport. "Do try to manage the collateral damage, gentleman..." he
said, considering the implications of the words he was saying. "You have
my consent to proceed," he said, as he rose from his seat and walked
forward to the viewport, glaring angrily out at the nebula as he
considered what was happening. Perhaps the battle on the surface was
being dealt with, but that was only half of the Tottenge he was facing.

Wise words from the Major, Theus
reflected. High Command had refused to accept the Colonel's continued
warnings that this terrorist cell was indeed a major threat,
subsequently failing to allocate sufficient ISB resources to eliminate
them. Theus had grown increasingly frustrated with his limited manpower
and material, though now the opportunity had appeared to finally strike
a fatal blow to the Rebel cell and any allies they had cultivated. The
Black Sun lieutenant was also still within ISB custody; perhaps he too
would prove useful. "Admiral, have there been any developments on the
naval front? If the cell attempts to escape the planet, I believe my
ship would be unable to interdict them."

The Admiral paused for a moment,
fighting back the sensation to laugh at the Colonel's question. He would
forgive him, as he was not a naval officer like himself. "Do you ever
have trouble sleeping, Colonel?" he asked as he turned his attention
back to the man, walking gracefully across the room towards the tactical
display. He entered a few keystrokes and a tactical rendering of the
Perlemian Trade Route and the Hydian Way were displayed for all to see.
"Counting the number of ships that transit through this system on an
hourly basis is an excellent cure for insomnia," he sarcastically
explained to the man as he waved his hand over the readout, showing tens
of thousands of civilian vessels moving too and from the planet each
day. "We simply do not have the resources to inspect even a fraction of
the traffic in the Brentaal system," he continued, letting out an
exasperated sigh as he considered the enormity of the problem. "We
inspect ... five percent?" he said, asking himself, not sure if he had
the figure right. "Barely a ripple in the pond," he concluded, walking
away from the tactical display in frustration.

"Gentlemen, I believe naval tactics are
out of my purview. I have a report due to very shortly. I apologize I
could not tarry longer. Good day, gentlemen," the ISB Major saluted
crisply and dismissed himself back onto the deck of the hulking war
machine.

The Colonel acknowledged the Major's
departure, mentally scheduling when he would be available to further
develop their plans for the false flag cell. Turning his attention back
towards the Admiral, Theus listened silently to the dilemma of naval
interception. This was a problem that had plagued him before, with the
Rebels retreating once the noose had tightened around them. Alas, it was
not a mistake that would happen again. "Understood, sir. We will ensure
they never make it off the planet."

Now that the Major had departed, the
Admiral felt somewhat more at ease when speaking, and his demeanor began
to shift as he his next words would be considerable more candid that
what he had been previously stating. "I do not want any of our people
involved in this operation, Colonel," he said bluntly, leaving no room
for negotiation as he began to move towards the holonet transceiver. "No
loyal subject of the Empire should be executed for our cause ... no
matter how much such a duty may be needed at the moment," he said with a
reassuring nod of his head as he began to activate the controls. "The
Black Sun is ideal for this sort of ... operation," he explained as he
attempted to open a transmission to the local Black Sun Sub-Lieutenant. "They have
individuals who are expendable for a price, and we will also limit their
numbers. Two thrantas ... one stone," he said with a firm nod of his
head as he threw a confident smirk in the direction of the Colonel.

After a brief moment the holographic
image of a middle-aged Neimoidian appeared on the holonet transceiver.
The man was clothed in the ornate blue and black robes that had been
handcrafted for him by the finest tailors in the Ringali Shell. He was
not accustomed to being summoned in such a matter, but the commander of
the Imperial forces was one whom he simply could not afford to ignore.
"Lord Rodney..." he said, with a slight sneer as he oozed the name from
his lips. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, feeling already as
if his time was being wasted. He had more important things to do than
waste his time chatting with an Imperial officer. His time was valuable,
and each second spent int his pointless conversation was costing him
10,000 credits.

The Admiral was never pleased to see the
Neimoidian crime lord. He despised the Black Sun and viewed them every
much as disdainful as the rebellion. If he had his way, he would be at
war with them both, and would have already arrested the criminal
mastermind. However, the Black Sun's leader had become a powerful force
within the bureaucracy of the Galactic Empire and they were just one of
a series of blights the man would have to tolerate. "It is not I that
needs your assistance, Sub-Lieutenant," he said politely, with a kind of courteous
smile as an unseen hand moved towards the Colonel to summon him up onto
a Holonet tranceiver of his own. "But it is for me to make the
introduction," he explained with a firm nod of his head. "This Colonel
Verus Theus ... of the Imperial Security Bureau," he concluded, saying
the last three words with deliberate poise to stress the dread usually
associated with the ISB.

The Colonel certainly shared the
Admiral's unspoken disdain for Black Sun; old war wounds attested to the
effort he had expended against the criminal syndicate. Theus stood and
slowly moved towards the the senior officer, collecting his thoughts on
what they required from the underworld empire. "Sub-Lieutenant, we are in need of
your services." It was far more a factual statement than any kind of
request. "Thirty men, heavily armed and equipped with speeders, fighters
and light cargo ships. No questions are to be asked, and no further
details are to be provided. We will require men that you trust." Though
he did not say it, their eventual loss would ideally further weaken
Black Sun.

The Neimoidian Sub-Lieutenant paused as he
listened to the Colonel's outrageous request. His eyes blinked several
times as he considered the words carefully, wondering perhaps if he had
misheard him. "Your request is considerable, Colonel," he said, shaking
his head at him in disbelief. Of course he had the men and the
materials, but he would see that his price for such a service would be
enough to fund his factories on Esseles for the next decade. "A
considerable request commands a considerable sum. As Lord Rodney is a
man of the galaxy like myself, I am sure that he is aware that I would
require at least 100,000 credits per man and a further two million for
the support craft and equipment. An even ... five million," he
concluded, as he waited for the Colonel's response. He did not ask what
they were for, as it did not interest him. He would find in due time and
would not be foolish enough to ask the ISB officer the question
directly.

A brief flicker of emotion crossed the
Colonel's face, subtle enough to be indistinguishable through the
Holonet transmission. Theus still considered Black Sun an enemy target,
albeit one that had been eclipsed by a larger threat, and the Colonel
did not intend to further empower the syndicate financially. "Two
million." Theus allowed the words to fill the silence in the
transmission before continuing. "Sub-Lieutenant, at my personal disposal are the
best soldiers and agents within the sector. At present, they are
focusing on the Rebellion. But if you would prefer they descend upon you
and all that you love silently in the night, I can quite easily arrange
for that." He was not bluffing, though High Command would likely
disagree. "Two million."

The Sub-Lieutenant was not phased by the ISB
Colonel's threat for he had the ear of Prince Xizor, and Xizor in turn
had the ear of the Emperor. "Do not think you can come here and threaten
me, Colonel. I am no ... how do you say? ... pety thief..." he said, his
voice filling with disdain and contempt for the man he viewed as an
arrogantly presumptuous officer. "I fear that these men I send you may
not come back in the same condition that I loan them to you. They have
families. Young children. Funerals ... are expensive, Colonel," he said,
putting on quite the theatric act as he continued the negotiation with
the ISB officer. "Three-point-five million, Colonel. A bargain if ever
there was one," he conclude, putting his hands together in front of his
alien form in a pyramidal shape.

There were rebels to eliminate, safe
houses to destroy, starfighters to intercept...and yet the Colonel was
still faced with the insufferable Sub-Lieutenant. His patience remained intact,
though Theus was of the mind to end the negotiations as quickly as
possible. "Two million," the Colonel repeated, his trailing voice
indicating there was more to follow, "and I guarantee the safe return of
Lork Rantee." The Black Sun lieutenant had been abducted by ISB agents in
the weeks prior, though no one had identified the true culprits of the
kidnapping. The Colonel's offer was by no means an admission of guilt,
but merely an opportunistic exchange that the Bureau would facilitate.

So that is where Lork Rantee ended up, the
Sub-Lieutenant realized and laughed slightly at the ISB Colonel's ambitious
tactics. "And can you guarantee he'll return safely with a crate of E-11
blaster rifles, Colonel?" the Sub-Lieutenant asked, as he refused to be the last
one to concede in any type of negotiation.

"You have my word," replied the Colonel.
He had achieved his desired price, and his ego was not such that he
required the absolute final word in the overdramatic bargaining scheme.
The E-11s would have found their way to the syndicate regardless of
Theus' actions, though the Colonel also made a mental note to one day
retrieve them when he finally did come for the Sub-Lieutenant. "Glad we have
agreed."

"You have your thirty men, Colonel," the
Neimoidian Sub-Lieutenant said, devoid of any emotion as if he had merely sold
thirty bottles of wine. Without any fanfare or ceremony the holonet
transmission abruptly terminated as he had much work to do on the
surface. He would task a Lieutenant with gathering the appropriate men
and materials, but what the Empire had in store for them he had not a
clue. They had piqued his interest, and clearly he was now dealing with
something larger than a middle-aged nobleman of an Admiral as an
opponent.

Finally. The Colonel reflected upon his
disdain for politics, an activity filled with the pointless banter and
posturing. He could play the game well enough, his position within the
Bureau required that, though he much preferred the environment of field
work. Theus turned towards the Admiral. "I will set about creating the
cell once the men arrive. Aside from us and the Major, this operation
will remain entirely confidential."

The Admiral nodded coldly as the Coonel
planned to depart. "Oh. One last thing, Colonel," he said as he began
organizing his data disks on the table as he prepared for his next
briefing. There was seemingly no end to the bureaucracy of managing the
Ringali Shell. "If this goes sour I will hang this on you..." he said
rather bluntly, a stern glance thrown in the man's direction. "You'll be
the next Dagon Tong..." he said cryptically, referencing the former
Major who the ISB setup and by all accounts had been executed. Little
did he know that it was Tong who was his main nemesis on the planet's
surface.

A swift nod by the Colonel was his only
response. Theus expected no less; operations of the Tactical Units could
not afford missteps, and his pursuit of the Rebel cell had already
lasted far too long. The planet would serve as a fitting battleground
between the Colonel and his quarry, and he would be damned if he could
not achieve victory against them. Theus offered a brief salute to the
Admiral before turning towards the door; there was much work to be done.